


Pyrophilia

by jolly



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolly/pseuds/jolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emil is like fire, and he loves it. Lalli is more like ice, but maybe Emil can change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pyrophilia

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first real, for-the-public fic, so feedback is highly appreciated! Enjoy!  
> Edit: I made a tumblr! Jollyfics.tumblr.com

Emil was like fire. He was bright. He was warm. Always moving, always full of energy, always honest. So different from the dull, muted lifestyle Lalli had grown accustomed to in Keuruu. Emil was a break from the repetition, like the first breath of fresh air when you step outside. But as much as Emil was exciting, Lalli couldn't help but feel somewhat intimidated. Not by Emil himself- the man was completely harmless- but by his loud behavior. At first, the idea of Emil was offensive at best. The feeling changed quickly into something more like polite aversion, and then a sort of fondness as Lalli got used to Emil's eccentricity. Lalli always preferred the quiet and cold wilderness, appreciated the solitude it provided him with. But maybe he could bear to be around someone on this expedition who wasn't Tuuri, after all.

Emil loved fire. It was the one good thing about his family's financial situation- he had the opportunity to make fire his job. Not that he would admit that to anyone. Emil would be the first to complain about the traumas he'd been forced to endure as a result of his parents' loss. Still. The flames had always drawn him, earning him reprimands in addition to many burns in his childhood. Emil was captivated by the beauty of the dancing light, and coupled with the pain of coming too close, it was like something he'd always been searching for but couldn't name. A friend? A pet? A lover? No, none of those things. A feeling. Yes, a feeling he simply could not describe.  
So Emil had learned to tame the beast, if that rough military training could be considered learning. He learned to use fire as a weapon, learned to see more in it than "pretty" and "pain." It was exhilarating, to watch flames consume and grow, swallowing things as large as buildings or as small as dust. And somehow, watching it sweep across a landscape, wiping away everything, allowing the wounded earth to start over clean... Emil felt that it was doing the same to him. Cleanser was a good name for his job.  
When they had first met, Emil sensed something in Lalli. Something wonderfully, blissfully, refreshingly like the feeling he'd been looking for. It was strange, for as much as Lalli felt like fire, he wasn't really anything like it. Lalli was cold, frigid even, like that day in the middle of winter when everything is frozen and somehow it's still raining. Not exactly what one might call friendly. But Emil wouldn't let that stop him. He was certain that he and Lalli would be friends.

Slowly, slowly, Lalli found himself becoming more fond of the unusual Swede. Emil was all but useless in most situations, but he was nice. And he stuck around. He made an effort to be Lalli's friend, despite everything. How could Lalli not appreciate that? What he would not admit to himself was that Emil awakened something in him, some warmth that mirrored Emil's own. Lalli wasn't sure which came first, but at some point he noticed that he and Emil were communicating clearly, even through the language barrier. Perhaps it was something that transcended language, a fundamental understanding of one another. It was nice. It was more than nice, Lalli finally had to admit to himself. Spending time with Emil was something he looked forward to. Made a habit of interacting with him as often as possible, whereas a few weeks ago he probably would have avoided the Swede at all costs.

It was rare for Emil to feel subdued, and Lalli seemed to be magically attuned to it. Lalli was always there to pat his arm sympathetically when he needed a friend. He listened to Emil talk without understanding, comforting Emil with his silence. Sometimes Lalli would fall asleep in his bed, which made for an uncomfortable sandwich position that Emil told himself he didn't like. He would sleep in Lalli's bed, but Lalli was possesive and Emil wasn't sure how he'd respond to his private space being infiltrated, even by him. So they slept, back to back, Emil's nose brushing the wall and Lalli's curled knees hanging off the bed. Neither of them could explain how they always woke up face to face with their legs tangled together, Lalli's face buried in the warmth of Emil's neck, Emil's hand draped over Lalli's waist.

===============

Lalli was out scouting that night, and he hadn't returned for a few hours. Emil was worried, but Tuuri told him not to worry, just go to sleep. He'd be back in the morning. Emil slept fitfully, the pounding rain and howling wind reminded him that Lalli was out there, all alone, with nothing but what he could carry on him (not much). He jerked awake each time he heard creaking, expecting Lalli to come stalking into bed. By the time Emil was on the edge of sleep, he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes when the door squealed on its old hinges. Footsteps whispered on the floor, hesitated, then changed direction. Something cool settled against Emil, and pushed him the rest of the way into unconsciousness. 

Emil woke up with a tuft of hair in his mouth. Lalli was curled into him, breathing evenly. Strange, Lalli was usually the first of them to wake up. Gingerly, he brushed Lalli's platinum hair back, out of their faces. It was rough and warm from Emil's breath. His thumb trailed over the Finn's cool cheek before he thought better of it and returned his hand to Lalli's waist. 

"You know," whispered Emil, not expecting Lalli to hear him. "I didn't know what I needed until I met you. You're like a little hearth in the middle of a snowstorm." He paused, contemplating. "Thank you," he said finally, and touched a little kiss to Lalli's forehead.

Lalli's eyes flew open. He'd been awake for a while, faking sleep, wanting to stay in bed. A burning pink spread from Emil's cheeks as he stuttered to explain himself. Lalli ignored him, focusing on the little flame that Emil had awakened inside him when they first met. It was flaring now, growing, hungry. That little peck on the forehead wasn't the real Emil. Emil was passion, like a forest fire. Lalli wanted to see the real Emil. Lalli cut off his babbling by pressing his cool lips against Emil's. Emil made a grunt-squeal noise of surprise in the back of his throat, then returned the kiss. He tightened his casual embrace and pressed harder into Lalli's mouth, which readily matched his pressure. Lalli felt a tongue parting his lips and let his mouth open, inviting Emil inside. Lalli's mouth was hot, but Emil's was hotter, and they kissed until they felt themselves lighting on fire. When they pulled apart, Lalli's eyes were flaming and his lips were sore and tasted of iron. He rolled off the bed and went to eat breakfast. Emil watched him go, smiling. That was it. The feeling he was looking for. He was glad to have finally found it in Lalli. 

Emil was like fire. So Lalli loved fire. His lips twitched into a half-smile. Maybe Lalli was like fire too.


End file.
